


Monsters

by Omnibard



Series: Circle of Steel [2]
Category: Fallout 4, a little Fall Out Boy reference there too...
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Roth is a terrible person, Yao Guai, feral ghouls, hunting in the Commonwealth, traveler would rather be alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/pseuds/Omnibard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorne meets someone new in the Commonwealth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters

Thorne hunched behind the irradiated corpse of a white oak while the bear snuffled in the underbrush fifty meters away.  The locals had adopted the Chinese names for the creatures-- _yao guai_ \-- and in the late morning gloom of heavy coastal mists swirling disorientingly at hip-level, Thorne could appreciate why.

It _looked_ like a monster.

According to Eev, who’d set him on its trail, this particular creature had killed eight people since making its presence known in the area two days ago.  He’d told her-- and he was pretty convinced by now that ‘Eev’ was a woman-- that he wasn’t a bear hunter.  She’d asked him if he was a coward.  Or could rest easy knowing a bear was eating children in their beds not too far away.

Eev had become very skilled at prodding him into jobs in a very short amount of time.  Quite the accomplishment for a person whom he’d never met face-to-face and existed solely as a voice that piped up over his Pip Boy comms every once in awhile.  He didn’t even _owe_ her anything: she’d give him news and information about areas he came across, or danger and weather reports for the roads he travelled-- same as she did for anyone _else_ who called her frequency and asked, but otherwise she mostly gave him _taskings_.  The only tangible payment he’d ever received from her was after the first task-- the one to save her radio station that was under fire from a group of mercenaries-- and it had been a wireless earpiece and adapter for his Pip Boy so that they could talk to each other without her voice blaring for “all and God” to hear, especially when he’d rather be quiet.

Like now.  Though the comms were silent, which was just as well.  It allowed him to catch the chatter of rotor blades from a vertibird.  The bear heard it too, but the noise swiftly growing louder wasn’t what made it hulk itself onto its hind legs.  Its scarred muzzle tipped toward the canopy and the traveler knew it was scenting something.  Ducking back, he prayed it wasn’t him and now, with his back against the twisted trunk, noticed something that had been lingering at his 7 o’clock, roughly a hundred-fifty meters away in the clearing.

It was a man in a long coat, making zero attempts to be hidden as the gray morning light caught his bright red hair which blazed like flame.  He was holding what appeared to be a sniper rifle with a _grenade launcher_ attached to the bottom of the receiver, but that didn’t make any sense.  Sniper rifles were engineered specifically for stealth, while grenade launchers were… well they _weren’t_ made for stealth in the least.  Thorne had just about convinced himself it was some kind of _grip_ or _hand rest_ , not even concerning himself with how the weapon was angled, when there was a loud _THUMPF_ and a thin trail of gray smoke arcing up over the tops of the trees.

 _I’ll be damned.  It really_ **_is_ ** _a grenade launcher._ It still didn’t make any sense.  It made _less_ sense when he realized that the man had been _singing_ to himself, some kind of battle chant.

“My songs knoow what you did in the daaaark…”

He spread his arms wide, as if embracing and expecting applause.  He was looking _right at Thorne_.

_No.  He doesn’t see me…_

 

There was an explosion overhead, a flare of light and heat accompanied by a roaring shriek of fire and protesting metal and quite suddenly the vertibird the traveler had heard earlier crashed to the ground somewhere between where he crouched and where he’d last seen the mutated bear.  The burning wreckage cartwheeled toward the redhead in the long coat, whose arms were still spread wide as if he intended to _embrace_ it.  Thorne glimpsed panicked faces in the cockpit glass swiftly spider webbing.

Rotors separated from wings, wings sheared from the fuselage and the traveler ducked back behind the tree and sank down.  The violent crashing came to an unsteady halt.  When Thorne looked up again, he wasn’t alone.

“He- _lo_ Lucy~”  The man in the long coat’s handsome face split into one of the whitest smiles Thorne had seen since stepping out of the Vault, and the ice cold tremor of terror he felt was only partially attributed to the pistol that was now painfully buried between his legs.

“Ooh, oh no, whatcha gonna do?  Oh boy… It’s a pickle…” The man went on in a tone half chiding, half patronizing, blue eyes sparkling with mischief and merriment.  The traveler didn’t reply, could not _think_ of a reply, the usual quiet waters of his mind suddenly plunged into a storm of fear and so many _questions_.

“Oh, no, don’t do _that_ ,  Buttercup,” The man crooned, using his free hand to pat Thorne on the cheek, “Don’t make this _boring._  If you make this _boring_ , then _I_ have to make it _interesting_ and I’ve still got a hand free and with our current positions, your kicked-puppy face looks like it’d go _fantastic_ with a mouth full of cock~  Were you _born_ with that look, or is that just for _my_ benefit?~”

Stricken, Thorne jerked away, but the pistol muzzle buried between his legs prevented him from going very _far_ , “Wh-who _are_ you?”

The man groaned, “Can you _be_ more boring?  You _people_ and that _question_ !  Like the _answer_ is going to even _mean_ anything!  Can I just blow your dick off and go back to my awesome day?  Can I?  Huh?”

Thorne would not profess any particular attachment to his private parts more than any _other_ part of his anatomy, but he didn’t want to lose _any_ part of his body if he could _help it,_ and besides, bleeding out from a wound like that was almost guaranteed before he found any medical attention capable of helping him.  He tried to swallow, “Well… sorry for raining on your parade, mister?”

“Are you?  Are you _really_ ?” The man grinned again, and his blue eyes traced up and down his body the way Thorne had seen people eyeing a cut of brahmin.  The he met his gaze, “Call me ‘mister’ again and you’ll have something to be _real_ sorry about…”

“Sorry… I don’t--”

“-- Don’t be such a little bitch, Sugarlips.  Quit apologizing.  At least _pretend_ you’ve got a pair…”

Something gripped inside at _last_ , “Might _have to_ after this, the way you’ve got ‘em smashed like that.”

“Ha!” Blessedly, the pistol was put away, even _holstered_ , “The name’s Roth, Darryl Roth.”

“I’m Thorne--”

“--Don’t care.”

Well that was fine, “Great.  What do you want, Roth?”

Those perfect teeth flashed again, blue eyes glittering, “Weren’t you listening?  Didn’t I tell you?”

It took only a moment for Thorne to go over the entire strange encounter and decide to reach for a weapon.

It was already too late.

  


*

 

Thorne did not think he’d ever sat so still his entire life.  He did not think he’d ever been so afraid to draw a breath for fear of the disturbance it might cause.  He did not think he’d ever afforded a single person as much attention as he’d laser-focused on Roth.

The man was sitting on a log not far away, his profile silhouetted in the sunset.  He really was very handsome, with a strong jaw and nearly perfectly symmetrical features.

The traveler had never been so terrified of someone in his entire life.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I’m gonna be convinced you want some _more_.”

Throat constricting painfully, almost _strangling him_ , Thorne immediately found somewhere else to rest his eyes.  Roth chuckled.

“Well, it’s about time to get on with my awesome day, don’t you think?  I don’t suppose a little bitch like you would want to come with me to Goodneighbor for a few errands?”

The traveler very much didn’t want to go with him _anywhere_ .  Ever.  It wasn’t in him to _say_ as much.

“No?  Going to be boring again?” The man in the long coat stood, his shadow stretching long over the traveler like some kind of comic thriller cover.

“Please no--Agh!” A new kind of pain exploded through Thorne as Roth shot him once in each leg, low in the thigh, near the knee.

“Fantastic.  You be a good little bitch and wait here for your master.  Got it?   _Stay._ I'll be back for you later.~ ”

Pain and revulsion climbed up Thorne’s throat so he could not answer.  His silence once again irritated the red-haired man who drew close and bent to dig his thumbs into the new wounds he’d made, _pulling_ at them.

“Got it?-- Oh _please_ try to throw up on me… I’ll make you lap it up without any _teeth_ in your head…”

The traveler bit off his screams, choked down his gorge, and nodded vaguely while the forest spun a nightmare of shadows and fiery light.

Roth was gone when he finally opened his eyes again and all was quiet save the fleshy slithering and chorus of grunted groans associated with a pack of feral ghouls close at hand.

Turning his head, he noted that they seemed to be _finished_ with the corpse of the _yao guai_ that had been cut in half by one of the rotors, and were now coming to investigate _him_.

His legs hurt too much to move them, and besides that, at this very moment he feared what Roth might _do_ to him if he discovered he’d moved, more than he feared being torn apart by ghouls.

Roth would make sure he _survived_ whatever he’d do _.  Awake_ .  There’d be no _solace_ in death...

That moment didn’t last too long, however.  Thorne very much wanted to _live._   He drew his shotgun from where it was slung over his shoulder and used his free hand to brace his back against the nearest tree.

 

The last of the light faded, and the traveler awaited the lesser monsters.

  
  
  



End file.
